


i'd share a life and you'd share a life

by glitterseas



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: 5 Times, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Canon-Typical Violence, First Kiss, M/M, mentions of beau/yasha but not enough to justify tagging them, vaguest hints at reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 00:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14988500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterseas/pseuds/glitterseas
Summary: Before he leaves the ring of light from the fire, he glances back at Caleb one last time and Caleb is pretty sure he sees recognition in Fjord's eyes. It must be a trick of light. He's sure he's never seen this man before.Or, five universes where Fjord and Caleb meet.





	i'd share a life and you'd share a life

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time writing this pairing or writing for this fandom. most importantly, this is the first work of fanfiction i managed to finish and post in 6 (six!) years. i was planning to come back with a different fic but then Critical Role happened and i haven't complained ever since.
> 
> this fic was written for getyourwordsout yahtzee challege, round 2. (tbh without this community, the fic wouldn't have been finished just like all my other fics so far.)
> 
> the canon portion of the fic is set sometime in the future. basically, i'm only on episode 11 and i didn't want any spoilers.
> 
> title and subtitles come from [wolf parade - i'll believe in anything](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7G1eLTV89dM), the first song that came to my mind the moment i came up with the idea for this story.

_i. give me your eyes, i need sunshine_

 

They're about to enter another dungeon presumably filled with terrible, blood-thirsty monsters. Caleb really can't say that he's getting used to that. His heart seems to be trying to beat its way right out of his chest. And yet he isn't going to leave now, that much he knows.

As their whole group starts descending further and further into the damp-smelling maze of corridors, Fjord steps to the front, brushing Caleb's arm on his way. It's an intentional touch, a reassurance. He half-turns before taking his place next to Yasha and sends Caleb a small smile. Caleb smiles back weakly, but the warmth in Fjord's eyes seems to wash over him, lending him some of the courage that flows in Fjord's veins, and Caleb's grateful for that.

A few more steps forward and darkness engulfs them. Before Caleb can cast Dancing Lights, a strong odour hits him. At first it smells sickly sweet like rotten flowers but then it turns into something thick and acidic that burns as it travels through Caleb's nose down to his lungs. He reaches for his scarf, tries to cover his mouth and nose, but he's already got a mouthful of the smell and he finds he can't take another breath. It's like his lungs are seizing up. His throat spasms a few times, but no air comes in.

He can hear Molly yell, ‘Everyone hold your breath!’ but his voice seems to come from a distance.

Caleb starts panicking which turns out to be difficult when you can't even take a shallow breath to get you started on hyperventilating. There is more shouting and in the periphery of his vision Caleb sees the shape of Beau falling to her knees and clutching her throat. He realises he's kneeling, too, kneeling and choking on nothing, and that realisation only makes everything worse, as his attempts at drawing a breath, just one fucking breath, grow frantic and erratic.

He needs to calm down, he thinks, because this panic is not helping him. In the dark he sees a faint glow coming from one of Molly's swords, hears the unmistakable _ping_ of Nott's crossbow going off, and then a beam of light illuminates an ugly, podgy creature as Fjord sends Eldritch Blast at it.

Fjord turns slightly, his eyes still trained on the monster, and yells, ‘Hang on in there!’

Caleb can't die like this. Caleb doesn't want to die. He really needs to calm the fuck down. He can feel he's getting lightheaded; the darkness around him spins and twists. He bends, braces himself against the ground and, as he does, another beam of light swishes ahead of him.

He closes his eyes and tries to focus on one image, something that could slightly unknot his muscles, just so he doesn't feel like he'll snap in half any moment. He thinks back to this morning, thinks of waking up to Fjord curled behind him, one hand over Caleb's stomach, their legs tangled together comfortably. Caleb twisted slightly just so he could watch the dawn cast an ethereal light on Fjord's face and turn his features impossibly softer. Caleb focuses on that, then calls to mind the look in Fjord's eyes when he awoke and gazed at Caleb. The soft _Mornin'_ whispered into his hair and the kiss that followed.

The moment air enters his lungs again Caleb collapses onto the ground. Someone's clutching his arm, someone else is brushing hair out of his face. He takes several shallow breaths before he can breathe normally. He opens his eyes. Even in the darkness he knows the exact expression painted across Fjord's face.

‘I'm alive,’ he rasps out and straightens up, lets Fjord pull him up as Nott makes relieved noises next to him and a few feet away Beau lets out a string of curses. ‘I'm alive,’ he says again, sounding a bit dazed.

He feels Fjord's warm lips on his forehead as Fjord puts one hand around him and whispers, ‘You are. You sure are.’

* * *

_ii. if i could get the fire out from the wire_

 

The club is already packed when Caleb arrives, the neon lights inside flashing all possible colours, the music booming from the speakers, and the people on the dancefloor looking like one body with countless, writhing hands and heads. For a moment, Caleb wants nothing else but to leave and go home, or at least leave and watch the concert from a safer distance where he doesn't have to fear being trampled. Just as he's making his decision, someone grabs his arm and Caleb turns around to see Molly's smirking face.

‘There you are,’ Molly says, dragging him away from the main floor. ‘No, no, we're not going there. I know the manager and so I got us a VIP spot on the balcony.’

Before Caleb can say anything, like  _oh that's awesome because I'd rather die than get in the middle of there,_ Molly has led him up the staff-only stairs and onto a balcony above the main floor.  There is no one else there and they have a clear view of the stage, currently lit up pink and purple.

Molly glances at his wrist. ‘Seven minutes to go, I'm going to get us some drinks,’ and with that he's gone downstairs again.

Caleb looks around. Up here, he definitely doesn't feel like the walls are closing in around him and he's grateful for that. He takes a few breaths to calm his flight mode down. His heart is still beating hard, though it's difficult to say whether it's just nerves or the echo of the booming bass. It's not that Caleb doesn't like clubs, it's just that he prefers the more old school ones with slightly less tech and flashing lights and music that sounds like it's been programmed by a very advanced algorithm that went askew mid-coding. But he promised Molly to come and see this  _most amazing new band_ so he's not going to back out of it now.

Just as Molly comes back, a colourful drink in a flashing glass in both hands, a tall woman with ombré hair walks onto the stage and starts fixing one of the mics.

‘That's Yasha,’ Molly explains as he hands Caleb his drink. ‘I'm acquainted with everyone in this band on some level, but, technically, Yasha is the one I've known for the longest time.’

Caleb nods and watches as Yasha takes her guitar from the stand and strums it twice. The people on the dancefloor seem to slow down their moves, and some stop dancing alltogether, staring expectantly at the stage instead. Soon Yasha is joined on the stage by a very short girl who basically needs to stand on a stand to reach her keyboard. The stand is adorned with various metallic and glittering trinkets that Caleb cannot exactly make out from the distance, but it shimmers whenever the lights fall on it. Another woman comes up from behind the stage, says something to Yasha and gives her a kiss, then sits behind the drums, twirling her drumsticks. The music in the club dies down and most of the lights directed at the dancefloor dim with the rest being directed right at the stage. Out of the corner of his eye, Caleb can see Mollymauk sipping on his drink and smirking and Caleb realises he didn't even ask what kind of a band it is. He can't even try to make a guess because with Molly's eclectic taste you never really know what you've signed up for until you hear it. Caleb opens his mouth to ask the question, but before he can make any sound, the remaining two band members come out on stage and Caleb is rendered speechless.

There is a woman, a pair of blue horns sticking out of her hair, looking terrifyingly realistic, and she grins as she stands in front of the mic in the middle of the stage, another guitar in her hands. But it's not her who captivates Caleb. A man smiles at the woman sheepishly and takes his place to the left of the stage. Even in the multicoloured lights he is beautiful, the kind of chiseled boyish beauty that would possibly fit best in a boyband and not–

‘Hello!’ chirps the woman. ‘We're the Mighty Nein and we're going to play you a few songs. Hope you'll like it!’

The band starts playing. The first few chords are aggressive and it doesn't get any softer from then on. If Caleb had to label their music, he would probably go with _electro punk, if electro punk was an easily definable thing and it was played by five people, each with a different idea of what electro punk is_. The thing, though, is that they're pretty good. There is some melodic allure in the cacophony and the band radiates this fun, light energy. The first song isn't even close to finished, when Molly puts down his drink and starts dancing. Caleb is not one to dance, even at the concert, but he lets himself nod to the rhythm (or, well, at least one of the many rhythms to choose from).

He watches all the members; he likes to concentrate on one instrument before zooming out again to see how it fits with the rest of sounds. But his eyes stray more often than not to the beautiful man who turns out to play the bass. There is an elegance to the man's movements and an effortless ease to how he presents himself on the stage. The man looks up a few times at the balcony, right where Caleb and Molly are standing, and smiles a wide, charming smile.

Before Caleb knows it, the band's set and a short encore are done. The band disappears backstage, the lights on the stage dim and the ones around the dancefloor lit up again. Molly leans and asks, ‘And what do you think?’

‘They're not bad,’ Caleb replies. ‘Pretty good, in fact,’ he adds quickly, because first of all, hell, they were good, and, secondly, out of all the weird bands Molly made him see in the time they've known each other, they just might be the best.

Molly nods proudly. ‘Told you. Now let's go, I promised Yasha I'd meet her and the gang after the show,’ he says, grabbing Caleb's elbow and dragging him downstairs again, then through another staff-only corridor until they end up backstage.

The whole way down Molly is telling Caleb stories about the band's members, mostly about how they've gotten together and that they kind of need a proper manager, even though Molly does most of their PR for now. Caleb waits for a pause in his monologue and says, trying to sound as neutral as possible, ‘Well, the bass player did quite a good job.’

‘Fjord?’ asks Molly, turning around to look Caleb in the face. ‘He did, didn't he? And would you believe the man has no formal training? It's all natural talent only.’

‘Huh,’ musters Caleb because what do you know, he actually would believe that. He doesn't say anything more, but Molly still gives him a knowing smirk.

And then Molly leads him right into a small, austere room where the band is laughing and just chilling and it takes them a moment to pay any attention to Molly and Caleb. That is, it takes _most_ of them a moment because as Caleb looks around the room, his eyes meet Fjord's. He is sitting in the corner of the couch, a glass with some colourful drink loosely held in his hand, and he must have watched Caleb. When their eyes meet, Fjord smiles at him like he's been waiting for Caleb to walk into the room all along. And Caleb... Caleb thinks this smile could easily light up the whole Electric City.

* * *

 

_iii. we've both been very brave_

 

Getting lost in the woods wasn't a part of his plan, when he first set out on this search for a powerful, arcane scroll. And now he's about to die because at some point in his life he decided that his need for knowledge and magical books outweighs his self-preservation instinct. He can hear the footsteps, careful yet quite heavy, coming his way. He has hidden behind a wide trunk of an old tree and is racking his brains for any spell that could help him in this particular situation, but deep down he knows he's fucked. He tries to summon a bit of an elemental energy, a cloud, a shadow, really, anything at all, but his hands are shaking so much that nothing appears in them. The footsteps stop. Silence seems to stretch for hours, even though Caleb knows that it's only been a minute at the most.

‘Is anyone out there?’ a voice finally says. Objectively, it's a very pleasant voice, but Caleb is not going to fall for that. Surely, there are many monsters out there who lure out foolish travellers like him with a nice enough voice. Caleb tries to breathe as quietly as he can, but the voice still adds, ‘Just so ya know, I can hear ya, so you'd better show yourself already.’ The voice sounds closer than before. Caleb is so, so fucked.

‘Fine! Just stay where you are!’ he says and possibly makes the second worst decision of his life. The first one he made last week. He's truly on a roll here.

‘Put away your weapons first!’ says the voice, so Caleb shouts back, ‘You, too!’ Then adds under his breath, softly, but with a hell lot of feeling, ‘Fuck,’ when he hears what's possibly the sound of a sword being put back into its sheath.

Slowly, with his hands up, he emerges from behind the tree to an odd sight. In front of him, just a few steps away, stands a half-orc with a frown on his face. There is a sword sheath strapped to his belt, a large bag on his back, and a scroll in his hand. The moment Caleb spots the scroll, he kind of really doesn't care anymore what the man's intentions are as long as the scroll in his hand will turn out to be a map that shows a way out of this fucking nightmare of a magical forest.

‘Who the hell are you?’ asks the half-orc.

‘Is this a map of the forest?’ Caleb asks, instead, pointing at the scroll in the half-orc's hand. There are certain matters that are simply more important than his name.

The half-orc glances at the scroll like he has forgotten he's holding it. ‘Why?’ he asks.

Gods, they're bound to spend some time here if both of them keep going on like this, Caleb thinks. ‘Look, I'm pretty new to the town, went for a walk and got lost in the woods,’ he says putting on his smoothest voice. ‘It feels like I've been walking in circles for _hours_ and I dream of nothing but getting the hell out of here.’ Well, at least that part is completely true. ‘A map sounds like the best way to do it.’

The half-orc sizes him up. He must notice that nothing about Caleb and his equipment screams leisurely hike into a mysterious forest and calls bullshit on the whole tale. Caleb thinks he can pinpoint the exact moment when the half-orc realises Caleb's lying, but instead of frowning or getting angry, the half-orc smiles like Caleb has just told him a very good joke. His hand, though, doesn't inch away from the sheath where his sword is hidden.

‘Is that so?’

And Caleb really can't tell whether he would prefer being called out outright to being lured into this weird game of Who Admits Their True Intents First Here. Because this stranger is not equipped for a leisurely stroll, either.

‘Fine,’ says Caleb a bit more sharply than he intended. He's tired, though, and he's sick of this place, too. The trees around him are probably ancient, the foliage up high so dense Caleb hasn't felt the sunlight on his skin in days, and everything around him is of various shades of green, either covered in moss or illuminated by leaf-filtered light. _At least the strange guy over here has a nice teal-green tint to his skin_ , a treacherous voice in Caleb's head says. _Looks pretty._ ‘I assume we're after the same artifact and that we're both fucking lost and I don't know about you, but I'm having second thoughts about dying over some scroll nobody's really sure even exists. So we could help each other, or.’ _Or die and have our corpses covered in moss until they look like a frail, ruined trunk_ , Caleb doesn't say, but thinks very intensely.

The half-orc studies his face for another moment. Caleb has no idea what he sees there, but it must be satisfactory because next thing he knows the half-orc extends his hand towards him. ‘I'm Fjord.’

Caleb grabs his hand and shakes it. It's a nice hand, too, he thinks. Slightly calloused and warm.

‘I'm Caleb.’

‘Nice to meet ya, Caleb,’ Fjord says and starts unrolling the map. ‘So let's see what _you_ can make out of it.’

* * *

_iv. and i could give you all the olive trees_

 

He doesn't want to sound pretentious, but he feels like he's getting too old for this. Like, maybe house parties were fun to do in high school, but now they're mostly too loud and there's way too many people in way too small rooms. Caleb's mind always goes haywire because _hello? have you lot ever heard of fire hazard?_ But he can usually get through the first couple of hours before he feels like he just has to get the hell out of there.

‘Don't get yourself into any trouble,’ he tells Nott before they enter the house which Beau rents along with Molly and Jester.

Nott gives him a little salute. ‘Sure, dad.’ At this point in the friendship it doesn't even sound sarcastic, but rather fond.

As expected, the party is a blend of rowdiness that comes with college kids set free and a laid-back atmosphere that comes with the fact that almost everyone here is friends or at least knows each other vaguely. As they walk in, Nott immediately spots Jester and goes to her, doing a complex special handshake. When they're done, Caleb waves to them from afar and moves to the next room, hoping it'll be at least slightly less crowded.

No such luck, though. Every sitting surface in the living room is taken. Most furniture has been pushed to the walls so there is more space to dance in the middle of the room and some kind of catchy pop song is seeping through the speakers, loud enough to be heard by the people upstairs, Caleb believes. He sees Molly dancing with a cute brunette, twirling the other guy with ease and practice, a big grin on his face. Across the room, on the far side of the sofa there's also Beau, sitting in Yasha's lap. Caleb goes to them, careful not to get tripped by anyone.

‘Heeey, Caleb!’ Beau greets him with what for her standards would be excitement. She's definitely already at least a little tipsy, Caleb can tell. ‘So fucking cool you've come. He'll be so happy to–’

‘There's some beer in the fridge,’ Yasha interrupts her and nods towards the kitchen. She has one hand resting on the back of the sofa and holding a bottle of beer, her other hand is curled around Beau's side, from time to time squeezing Beau's hip. They're as cute together as ever, Caleb gives them that.

‘Thanks,’ he says.

‘Yasha,’ Beau chimes in like she didn't even take notice that there was an interruption, ‘don't you think he's going to be just the happiest when...’

But Caleb doesn't stay to hear the rest of Beau's observations. It's getting more and more difficult to stand the crowd and the loud music, and the almost overbearing white noise of the chatter around him. He walks quickly into the kitchen which is definitely less crowded, possibly thanks to the couple that's making out unashamedly against the kitchen island. Caleb pays them no mind, after all, he wouldn't expect anything less from a house party, and walks straight to the fridge. He takes out the first bottle of beer he sees, opens it with a magnetic bottle opener, shaped like a dick, maybe? Or like a lighthouse if someone has only seen a lighthouse in a cubist painting. He's sure it belongs to Jester. He turns around towards the open entrance through which he can see a bit of the living room and takes a sip of the beer.

It tastes awfully bitter; an odd burnt aftertaste lingers in the back of his throat, even after the first sip. Caleb does a double take and checks the label on the bottle, but it turns out it's some fancy craft brand or something. Whatever it is, it's terrible. Caleb takes one more sip just to make sure, but this time its bitterness is almost overbearing. He puts it down on the counter, making sure it's far enough from the couple that they won't knock it off, and instead pours himself some pink lemonade from the pitcher, helpfully labelled _Jester's Totally Non-Alcoholic, Magical Pink Lemonade_. It's unbearably sweet, for a change, but Caleb thinks he'd rather stick with that than the taste of burnt barley for the rest of the evening.

Now, though, he could be drinking straight up poison and he probably wouldn't notice as his gaze fixes itself on the familiar shape hovering over Beau with a glass of water in his hand. Just like it's a part of their tradition that Caleb will tell Nott to stay out of trouble, it's a part of a tradition that Fjord will try to talk Beau into drinking some goddamn water in between drinks so that she doesn't die of hangover the next day. Caleb has heard that exchange between them so many times that it doesn't matter that he can't hear their conversation over the music right now, he knows exactly what's being said. And either way, Caleb is much more busy appreciating how good Fjord looks in jeans and a shirt the shade of evergreens, with a subtle checkered pattern. He is also very busy trying to ignore his heart beating like fucking crazy when Fjord throws his head back and laughs at something Molly says. God, Caleb is so fucking gone. He can almost hear Nott telling him on their walk to the house, ‘You should tell him, Caleb. For the sake of your own heart, if not for the benefit of everyone around the two of you.’ But hell, if that's happening today and, anyway, Caleb has been doing fine, managing his terrible, giant crush on Fjord for months now, ever since all of them grew into their little close-knit friend group. It's not really his fault that Nott knows him too well and is too damn perceptive for her own good.

Because if anyone asks, Caleb has been doing stellar. He kept his cool during their study sessions when it's been only him and Fjord. And he kept his cool whenever their group went to the movies and, somehow, each time Caleb ended up sitting next to Fjord and their arms would brush every now and then. And he kept his cool that one time when Nott couldn't go so for some reason Caleb was sharing his popcorn with Fjord and a few times their hands brushed and Caleb thought his head was going to explode, but he kept his cool. And also that one time – regardless of what everyone else says on that matter – when the group decided to have a Lord of the Rings marathon and Fjord fell asleep at the beginning of the third film with his head on Caleb's shoulder.

But today Fjord looks even better than usual, though Caleb was sure it wasn't possible, and that fact combined with Caleb's brain in the anxious how-many-exits-can-I-count mode is almost too much to bear. Caleb takes his lemonade and walks out the backdoor of the kitchen and into the backyard.

The first thing he notices when he closes the door is how quiet it is out here. The music is muffled, though it still seeps through the open windows in the living room. Caleb is all alone outside and he sits down on the perch, taking in the darkness and peace of the night. He takes a few deep breaths, revelling in the fresh and chilly air, the sound of chatter now far away. He decides at once that he's going to wait the party out in here unless for some reason the party moves outside, though he doubts it. Even for late April, the nights still aren't too warm. He curls a bit on himself, the light hoodie he's wearing not doing a particularly good job of shielding him from the chill air.

The music and the chatter swell as the backdoor opens a few minutes later, then quiets down again as the door is closed. Caleb doesn't pay much attention to that, doesn't even turn around. He's looking at the sky, wishing that stars were visible, but all he can see is a waxing moon on a velvet dark blue background. He's not exactly a romantic, but he starts thinking that it wouldn't be that bad to be here with someone else. Someone who has a too pretty face and a lovely laugh, who most of the time doesn't seem to mind Caleb's panicking and overthinking and his silences...

That someone sits down next to Caleb and he almost jumps out of his skin, but manages to keep his cool, nonetheless. _Once again, for fuck's sake,_ Caleb thinks, then slowly turns his head to see Fjord right next to him, only a few inches of free space left between them. And, god, even in the halfdarkness and from up-close Fjord looks unfairly handsome in his damn pine green shirt. Jester once said it's his cheekbones that make him so pretty, but that's not all. Fjord is kind and he has talked Caleb down from an anxiety attack a few times. Fjord makes sure that his friends stay hydrated at a house party and he always has something interesting to say about the film they've all watched. And there are all those other, even smaller moments, like when he always smiles at dogs on the street and he often has treats for Frumpkin even though Caleb's cat only makes Fjord furiously sneeze, and he brings a lucky pen to his exams. Caleb's heart wants to burst just from thinking about those things.

‘Um, hi,’ says Caleb, pulling himself from his musings.

‘Hello,’ says Fjord quietly. He's smiling softly. Caleb kind of wants to throw himself over the hedge and wait on the other side until he's sure he has his feelings under control. He'd probably have to stay there for another century, though. ‘Y'know,’ Fjord continues, seemingly oblivious to Caleb's emotional turmoil, ‘I hoped you'd come here today.’

‘And why is that?’ Caleb asks, though his whole internal monologue narrows down to _Really? Are you sure? Like, really?_

Now it's Fjord's turn to look at Caleb. His face is only a few inches away from Caleb's and Caleb has to stare back at the sky so he doesn't do or say something stupid. _This is key_ , Caleb thinks, because not doing or saying anything overly stupid has got him that far and so most likely it's the right strategy.

Fjord shifts in his seat, runs his hands over his knees. ‘It's fun with everyone else around,’ he says, finally. ‘But... I like spendin' time with ya. Just with ya.’

Caleb takes a deep breath. He figured that much, because no one else really wants to spend hours in the library with him, except for Fjord, and they often linger on to talk a bit more after their group outings, but it's still nice to hear it said out loud. ‘I like spending time with you, too,’ he says very, very quietly. It feels like he's admitting something much bigger than that. It certainly sounds like that when he says every word so quietly and carefully.

Fjord hums. It's a deep sound that Caleb can almost feel under his skin. Caleb waits, not sure if he should go on or not. Not sure how much he is capable of revealing. He's not brave and he fears this might require much more bravery than he can muster even on his best day. He's still staring at the sky when he feels Fjord's hand gently grasping his.

‘Look,’ Fjord says and it comes out as a whisper, almost, ‘this might get a bit awkward if I read it wrong, but–’

And Caleb might not be very brave, but he's been thinking about this very moment for months now. He's played it over in his head so many times, in countless scenarios, that it's almost instinct for him to turn to Fjord and kiss him. It's just a press of lips to lips, but it still makes Caleb's mind go completely blank. For once, he's not thinking and thinking and thinking, his focus zeroes in on all the points where his body meets Fjord's. Fjord's hand is a bit rough against his and his lips are slightly chapped, and when Caleb cups his face with one hand, he can feel the raised skin where Fjord's scar is on his cheek. It's perfect, all of it is better than anything Caleb has ever imagined.

He pulls back, but before he can start panicking – because, oh god, what if _he_ read it all wrong – Fjord pulls him back into another, more heated kiss. He tastes lemon-sweet, just like the pink lemonade, and Caleb is grateful that he didn't make himself drink any more of that hideous craft beer.

They break apart, resting their forehands against each other. In that moment it feels like it could be just the two of them on the entire Earth.

* * *

_v. i'd take you where nobody knows you_

 

When Caleb comes to, there's a large shadow shielding him from the blinding sun. He blinks a few times, waiting for his vision to clear and when it does, the first thing he sees is a pair of yellow eyes. It's perhaps a testament to his exhaustion that rather than jumping right into the fight or flight mode, he thinks vaguely, _this is a nice shade of yellow_. It's not yellow-white like the sun and it's not the orange-yellow of the hot sand under his body. It's like flowers, the kind he would find on his home planet. A pang of grief pierces his heart at the thought.

It's funny, though, he keeps thinking, tries to blink away the sand and dryness in his eyes, but it doesn't help much. The eyes keep staring at him and, though the person's face is mostly covered with a light cloth, Caleb catches a glimpse of green skin. Yellow flowers on a green field, he thinks deliriously. He must have started hallucinating, he reasons as he closes his eyes, can't find any more energy anywhere in his body to keep them open. He's going to die on this wasteland and that's just fine because he had it coming. He should have made better plans, better decisions, he should have– He only hopes that Nott managed to find help for herself, that she wasn't held back by him.

As if on cue, he hears Nott's urgent voice, ‘Is he going to live? Do you think he'll be fine?’

 _Don't worry, Nott_ , he wants to say, but no muscle moves, no sound escapes his lips. _It's going to be just fine_.

Someone picks him up off the ground, or at least Caleb thinks he's being hoisted up, bridal-style, one strong arm around his back, the other one under his knees. Oh, he's definitely hallucinating, but at least that's a nice hallucination to die to, he supposes. It could be much worse, it could be visions of fire or water, or just the sunlight burning him until there was nothing else left to hold on to but that unbearable heat.

He hears Nott ask another question, her tone growing more and more panicked, ‘Is he okay? Is he okay? I swear, I only left for–’ but he passes out before he can hear the answer.

 

The first thing Caleb notices when he wakes up again is the lack of light. It's not exactly darkness, never darkness, the sun never really sets on this nightmarish planet, but the light is considerably dimmed, its source blocked. Caleb's head is pounding, his body feels heavy, the inside of his mouth tastes like sandpaper. It takes him a few long moments to get hold of his motor functions and when he slowly gets up to a sitting position, his head spins.

He's lying in a tent, a proper tent, not the improvised kind he used to use before even that got stolen by some gang. It's made of dense fabric, which explains why there is so much shadow. He looks around, slowly. His head feels like a stack of bricks on his neck. There isn't much inside the tent: two bedrolls, a backpack, some clothes. In the dirty bundle at his feet he recognises his cloak and panic floods him. He scrambles for the cloak, but has to pause mid-movement. His head is swimming, his vision blurs again. But the moment he's sure he's not going to faint or throw up, he reaches for the cloak. His hands find the disk immediately, it's right where it's supposed to be, hidden in the inner pocket of the cloak. Perhaps whoever took it off him wasn't looking for anything, perhaps they were just trying to help him, an idea that seems almost laughably hopeful and foreign.

Just as Caleb breathes out a sigh of relief, Nott bursts into the tent.

‘Oh god, you're awake!’ she exclaims as she runs to his side. ‘I was so worried, I thought you died and that I didn't get back in time, even though Jester said that you should be fine and she does seem pretty good at medicine or whatever it was she did, and–’

‘I'm fine, Nott.’ Caleb interrupts her, his voice hoarse, the words scratching at his throat. ‘Just slightly dehydrated.’ He feels grateful when she doesn't try to argue with him. He's not sure if he would be able to fend off any arguments when every inch of his body is screaming that this time it was a much closer call than Caleb would like. ‘Where are we?’ he asks, hoping to change the topic.

Nott smiles at him, showing all of her little, sharp teeth.

‘There was an oasis a few miles south from where we were, but it wasn't on your map. I saw the tents from afar and I went to check and I found this bunch of weird people, but I think they're okay? They didn't mind, you know,’ she makes a vague gesture indicating her dark green face with its big yellow eyes and too many sharp teeth. ‘ _And_ they went to help you when I asked them so I don't think they're bad guys.’ Caleb nods. He's far from trusting someone just because they saved him from certain death, but it's definitely a point in their favour. Whoever they are.

Outside, someone pointedly clears their throat and after a moment a green hand parts the flap of the tent. Caleb turns to the person and the sudden movement makes him dizzy again, but not enough that he can't assess the man. He's tall and good-looking. He has yellow eyes – the nice shade of yellow – and tealish green skin. Caleb has no idea what planet this man could have come from. He thinks about the flowers on his home planet again.

‘You're awake,’ the man says. His voice is deep, calming. He crouches down so his face is on the same level as Caleb's. ‘I'm Fjord,’ he says and offers Caleb a flask of water. ‘Drink slowly.’

Caleb takes a few gulps first and only then slows down and sips the water. ‘I'm Caleb,’ he says, finally. His voice doesn't sound normal yet but it's lost most of the hoarseness and his throat doesn't feel so scratchy anymore. He takes another sip.

Fjord nods, smiles lightly. Now that the cloth isn't covering most of his face, Caleb can see a few scars running down Fjord's cheek. They take nothing from his charm. ‘Get some more rest,’ he says. ‘You and your friend are safe here. Um, I'll bring you some more water.’ Gently he takes the flask from Caleb's hands and leaves the tent.

Nott gives Caleb her patented _I told you_ look and Caleb just goes back to the lying position. It's not like he's in any shape to run now either way.

 

Later when he feels better, he leaves the tent, though each one of his muscles protests when he stands up. There is a little fireside still going on outside but Fjord is the only one sitting by it, everyone else must have gone to sleep. Caleb has yet to officially meet the rest of this ragtag group of people, but Nott has assured him several times that they seem trustworthy.

He sits a few feet away from Fjord, but close enough still that he can be heard without speaking up too loud. Fjord turns around to face him right away, peeling his eyes away from where they were surveying the horizon.

‘I didn't have a chance before,’ Caleb says carefully, ‘but thank you for your help.’

Fjord shrugs, smiles the smallest of smiles which makes one of his scars even more prominent. ‘Don't mention it. It ain't easy to survive on this planet and we have enough to share.’

‘Well, if there is anything I can assist you with...’

‘Your friend said you have a map of this planet,’ says Fjord and it sounds like he's been waiting to talk about it for some time now. Caleb nods, stops his hand from reaching into another hidden pocket of his cloak. ‘See, our ship crashed an' we're just tryin' to get to the nearest port. Without any success, so far. Seems like whichever way we go, it's just sand an' hills for miles an' miles.’ Fjord falls silent, twisting his lips. Caleb watches him for a moment, spellbound. The fire makes Fjord look almost otherwordly handsome, the light and shadow dancing on his face and highlighting the noble archs and slopes.

‘We do have a map,’ says Caleb. ‘We're trying to get out of this planet, we could help you get to that port,’ he suggests, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. He hopes Fjord doesn't ask how he and Nott ended up here; he might not want to help them when he knows.

Fjord hums. It's a deep, almost melodic sound. ‘There's strength in numbers,’ he says, finally. They sit in silence for a moment, then Fjord suddenly reaches for a pouch at his feet. ‘You must be hungry, here,’ he hands the pouch to Caleb.

‘Thank you,’ says Caleb and opens the pouch gingerly, not quite understanding why this man is so kind to him, when he has no idea who Caleb is, what Caleb has done. With one hand he fishes out a small, plastic square and offers it to Fjord. ‘The map,’ explains Caleb, tries not to think what it means that he's offering his only bargaining chip so freely.

Fjord takes it from him and turns the hologram on as Caleb chews on the dried meat he's found inside the pouch. They don't say much more. Finally, Caleb hands the pouch back and Fjord returns the map.

‘I should go and wake up Molly, it's his turn for the night watch,’ Fjord announces, standing up. ‘You should get some sleep, if you can,’ he says to Caleb and heads to one of the tents. Before he leaves the ring of light from the fire, he glances back at Caleb one last time and Caleb is pretty sure he sees recognition in Fjord's eyes. It must be a trick of light. He's sure he's never seen this man before, but he's still thinking about that look in Fjord's eyes as he's lying in the tent.

 

They head out early the next morning before the sun can properly heat the sand under their feet. The rest of the band seems... strange, just like Nott said, but Caleb doesn't think they mean any harm. He keeps his distance, still, watches everyone, watches out for Nott. The group seems to accept both of them easy enough, but Caleb feels better being cautious. He and Nott need to get out of the planet, nothing else matters at this point, and so they trudge along.

The fifth day as they set up camp for the day – they try to do most of the moving from evening till morning when it's not so oppressively hot – Caleb notices something odd. Or rather he has noticed it before but only now he realises what it might _mean_. From the beginning there has been an easy camaraderie between him and Fjord, some kind of instinctive understanding of how the other works, a certain fluency in reading where their bodies are in relation to each other. But there's more. Caleb catches Fjord watching him from time to time. Caleb himself does a lot of watching, too, the kind of watching that doesn't necessarily fall under _being watchful,_ but that isn't what unsettles him. When he thinks nobody sees it, Fjord looks at Caleb with fondness that is unfounded, given how little he knows about Caleb. And there are still those flashes of recognition when Caleb does something completely ordinary like stop to fix his cloak or talk to Nott or study the hidden disk in the shadows when it's only Fjord keeping watch nearby. Caleb doesn't understand it but he doesn't dare ask questions. Instead he revels secretly in the attention, thinks, _you should watch me, you should be careful not to let your guard down around me, you don't know where I've been, what I've done_. But there's a part of him that blooms with every fond glance. He tries not to pay attention to it. He needs to stay focused on surviving, on getting the hell out of this planet. And if his shoulder brushes Fjord's whenever they study the map, trying to figure out the shortest and safest route to the port, it's for survival, still.

 

They should reach the port tonight but as eager as everyone is to leave, they decide to take one last stop at noon, seeking refuge in the meagre shadow of a small hill. Caleb waits until he is sure that everyone has gone to their tents to get some rest and then leaves, assuring Nott that he'll be back soon. There is just one more issue he needs to discuss with Fjord.

Fjord, for his part, does not seem surprised to see him. ‘I was planning to talk to you,’ he says, instead, and offers him a waterskin. Caleb accepts, if only to have something to do with his hands. ‘We'll want to get on the first available ship an' get somewhere with more interplanetary traffic,’ Fjord continues. ‘From there, we'll try to get to where we were originally headed to.’ He pauses, clears his throat awkwardly. ‘I don't know what your–I mean, it's not like–What I'm tryin' to say is that you an' Nott are welcome to join us. If ya want to, of course.’

Caleb doesn't say anything for a moment. Up until now the only direction he had in mind was _away_ , nevermind how to get there. But it's been nice these past few days, travelling with those odd bunch of people who were so welcoming to both him and Nott. He thinks he could get used to that, even if he'll be given this for a limited time.

He meets Fjord's expectant gaze and is once again reminded of home: the luscious fields, the smell of flowers in the spring, the crystal clear stream behind the cottage. It's one of the few memories unburdened by guilt or grief and, because of that, it's preciously rare. He swallows, overcome with longing and hope. Another memory, more distant and vague, pulls at his mind, but it's more of a shadow than an image. A faded out, familiar feeling.

‘Yes, I think we'd want that,’ he says and Fjord does that little smile of his that lights up his eyes and makes Caleb's heart beat uncomfortably fast.

‘I'm glad to hear that. We could use someone who has a more advanced knowledge of droid coding and Nott seems a very clever girl. And... you'll be safe with us. As I said, it's better to travel in groups nowadays. Let's make it work,’ Fjord says, clasping his hand carefully on Caleb's shoulder.

Caleb's gaze travels from Fjord's hand up to his face. Perhaps he should think it over, but the answer is ready on his lips before he knows, as if the words have been waiting to be said this whole time and they could tell that now it's their time.

‘We'll make it work.’

**Author's Note:**

> now if you feel like shouting at me on tumblr, [there you go](http://glitterforests.tumblr.com/)


End file.
